


The Unknown - II

by VeryShyViolet



Series: The Unknown (Mads Mikkelsen/Tom Hiddleston) [2]
Category: British Actor RPF, Danish Actor RPF, Mads Mikkelsen - Fandom, Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: Actor Mads Mikkelsen, Actor Tom Hiddleston, Aftercare, Bloodplay, Celebrities, Dominance, Domination, Gay, Gay Sex, Knifeplay, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-29
Updated: 2016-03-29
Packaged: 2018-05-29 19:59:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6391225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VeryShyViolet/pseuds/VeryShyViolet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The unlikely pair continues on, and perhaps it is the beginning of something.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Unknown - II

**Author's Note:**

> The next drabble-y installment of this particular sitch with two of my most favorite actors.
> 
> I think the title for this one is a work in progress.
> 
> Comments help me keep going!
> 
> Enjoy~!
> 
> \- Violet (look, a new username!)

He was panting. ( _Such beauty had just taken place. Classical music was practically crescendoing in the background_.)

He was sat on the edge of the bed. ( _The moans and breaths were enchanting. They were playing again and again in his mind's ear._ )

His heart was grinning with exhilaration. ( _How he made him come so exquisitely, so gratifyingly, perhaps as he never had before. Mr. Hiddleston was a grand masterpiece, in all his messiness._ )

Mads pushed back his greying hair, fingered the edge of his ripped open shirt. His exposed chest had collected a sheen of moisture upon the hair on his chest. He glanced at his blade held in one hand. It held smears and droplets of crimson.

He looked back, centering the other, younger man on the bed in his vision. Tom's chest was rising and falling quickly with fatigue as well. Numerous small wellings of blood were snugly fit beneath his jawline, at his neck, and very tiny slits were in neat rows along his collarbone. They teemed with minuscule beads of red at their clean edges.

Mads smiled at the sight, satisfied.

"Was it as good for you as it was for me?" he asked Tom, accent stark against the incredibly cliche question as he grinned.

"Heh," Tom chuckled, letting a slightly lazy, spent smile curl the corners of his mouth upward. "I did find it very pleasing."

He gestured with both hands toward the tear in the crotch of his trousers, as part of his answer. The bold, animal display told all, with the Englishman's proud length laying out of the hole for all to see. The fruits of his pleasure's labor were splashed up his bare stomach, miraculously avoiding the edges of his open shirt.

Mads grinned and laid back at the bottom of the bed, feet flat on the floor, the hand with the knife cocked upward at a careful angle - cutting someone was no longer the goal.

Tom spoke gently, questioningly.

"You didn't let me touch you."

Mads shook his head, adjusting his trousers.

"I like control." he said, taking out an expensive-looking handkerchief from his untouched trousers, and wiping down his switchblade. "I prefer causing the chaos, rather than receiving it. I'm sure you've heard of sadism."

Tom nodded, letting his eyes close. He didn't open them, even as he heard the bed creaking and shifting under Mads' weight. He only winced, quietly, when he felt immensely soft cloth (it had to be silk) pressing upon his delightfully wounded flesh.

"Should get you cleaned up." Mads murmured, using gentle pressing and holding motions, so as not to spread the excess fresh blood everywhere.

And Tom let him, slowing his breathing. He felt cared for in this moment, a zen amidst the hectic motion of the rest of the world. He felt swept by this older, perhaps gruffer man, that he had barely met hours ago, and was so taken by at first meeting. His words and level of intellectuality had enchanted him.

Yet, despite the quiet and the embrace of calm, Thomas felt the heat of Mads' incredibly close (God, his lips seemed to barely brush the surface of his skin), warm, outward breaths, melded with the cold of the ambient air temperature settling between breaths. He shivered deliciously. He smelt the light, floral champagne from their brief meal together, and titillation swept in small raises over his skin, prickling and practically scintillating. Mads smelled _mature_. 

Tom couldn't help himself and his eyes snapped open as he cupped the back of Mads' neck, then gripped it tightly as he enveloped the other man's mouth with his own, sucking his upper lip away and biting it. Tom let out a surprised but enjoying groan-grunt mixture of a sound as his lover gripped him between his legs with one hand. He ground his hips slowly upward.

Mads broke away, smiling in a teasing way as he let go of Tom. Thomas was _such_ a beautiful sight, disheveled and flushed with desire. He was no longer bleeding, and his cuts were sealing. However, Mads had to blink out of his admiration, and realized his lover had sat up with a wanton complaint in his eyes.

"You must shower. Come." Mads smirked, gesturing as he slipped off the bed and shed his button-down. He dropped it on the bed. He folded his switchblade closed, and pocketed it. Tom bit the inside of his lip as he tucked himself inside his trousers and stood, heading for the bathroom with Mads behind him.

Then, there came a knock, at the hotel room door.

Ice flooded Mads' veins as his head snapped towards the door, heart skipping a beat. He hadn't asked for food, and it wasn't time for the maids to come 'round.

Tom poked his head out of the bathroom, blinking. He hadn't heard the knock, given the shower water was running already.

"What's going on?" he asked quietly, catching the pensive look on the Danish man's face. Mads swallowed, and dispelled Tom's concern with a head shake and a smile.

"It's nothing, go ahead and get in without me. I'll be right there." he assured Tom, making eye contact as he smiled. Tom uncertainly returned the expression, and withdrew from the doorway, gently shutting the bathroom door.

Mads took off his shirt, which was slightly stained ruby at the ends of his sleeves, He combed his hair back roughly with his fingers, and sighed softly, shaking his shoulders loosely to relax. He approached the door and peered through the peephole. Someone was standing with their head down, and a cleaning cart next to them. He decided to open the door so as not to be completely suspicious.

"Yes?" Mads queried, cocking his head through the crack of the door. The person lifted their head, and upon seeing him, smiled.

"Room service." The young woman stated, trying to peer through the door crack that wasn't occupied by Mads' body. He drew the door smaller, closing the space to look through.

"Ah, no, thank you." Mads shook his head. The woman insisted, trying to put her hand on the door's edge, and Mads shifted the edge, dodging it away from her grasp. This woman was pushy.

"I said _no_." he reiterated, squaring his shoulders.

The woman seemed to get meek, hand falling back by her side, and her shoulders dropping.

"Sorry," she apologized, and took her cart and began shuffling down the hall. Mads stuck his head out and looked down the hall in the opposite direction, seeing the elevator doors only on that end. He narrowed his eyes, but pulled back into the room, shutting the door firmly. He locked it, and activated the deadbolt.

He stood there for a moment, rubbing the back of his neck stressfully and then sighing as he ran his hand through his hair. He decided then and there that he had to put any ideas or suspicions he had out of his head. He couldn't let any paranoia ruin this experience for himself and his lovely guest. He nodded, more to himself than anyone else, and beelined for the shower with a calmer mind. Steam had started to slowly seep out from under the bathroom door. He thought he heard gentle, echoing humming, perhaps even singing.


End file.
